


Legend of Zelda: War Wounds

by killerninja258



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 02:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17357645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerninja258/pseuds/killerninja258
Summary: Haunted by his experience in Termina, Link attempts to eke out an existence away from his former heroic pursuits. However, his past life may need to call upon him again after finding himself in the middle of a conspiracy that would put many innocent lives at stake. Can Link move on from his failures and become what he once was?





	1. Prologue: A Terrible Fate

**The Legend of Zelda: War Wounds**

**By: killerninja258**

**Prologue: A Terrible Fate**

_Darkness…_

_Despair…_

The very concepts used to be so foreign to him. No longer. After seeing the fire and hearing the shrieks of those who couldn’t stop what was happening before them, begging for any sort of divine intervention, he became all too familiar with what awaited him should he fail. A terrible fate… One that would transcend death, and torment him for eternity. A torment that would prevent him from resting. Unyielding. The evil he faced was all too familiar to him. Same desire for destruction and power, just with a different face. Some things never change, but there was one thing that did. He cursed at himself, and then looked down at his wooden torso, feeling dejected about his easy defeat and this _curse_ laid upon him.

That dejection evolved into anger. Anger then became fury. The very thought of meeting his end, whimpering like the people around him, staring his fate right in the glowing red eyes of that cursed moon. The Hero of Time, chosen by the _gods…_ Now a downtrodden failure. Eternally cursed. Eternally reviled. A shadow of his former self. A shade. All while this possessed scarecrow cackled arrogantly, tossing his prized ocarina up and down like a child’s toy.

_No. Not like this._

He did the only thing he could do. He inflated a bubble of sap, and shot it out of his mouth, smacking his ocarina out of the scarecrow’s hands. As soon as it hit the ground, he scuttled to it, and grabbed it as fast as he could, before turning around and seeing the moon descending upon him. If only he had _time…_

It was almost too perfect. With his fairy companion Tatl calling to the goddess of time itself, he went to put the ocarina to his mouth, watching it change shapes in his hands to a set of pipes, suitable for a Deku scrub to play. He knew the melody he had to play. It had already been the song that had changed his life so drastically before. The song that introduced him to the ultimate darkness that could one day ravage the lands and lives of the world… the song that introduced him to pure evil. Ironic… that it would also be the one to save him from it as well. And so he played the Song of Time… and then felt the world reset… and start over. It was strange to him, at first, the thought of turning back time. To him, it felt relative. Time was ever changing, like he would never be part of the same line that he originated on. It felt… wrong.

_What happened to those people that I left behind? Are they here? Or did they just die without me?_

He kept trying to rationalize his actions. Those people could be dead, in their own time strand, left behind by the one person who could save them… used as sacrificial lambs in order for him to figure out just what he was actually going to do to stop this evil that had permeated through his own reality, or they were with him again, still unaware of the real battle that was unfolding behind them. Throughout this ordeal, that thought had crossed his mind more than once.  He felt like a coward for having to do so. He was forced to call on to the power of the dead in order to help him accomplish his goal.

 In the end, after he had defeated the evil that lied in Majora's Mask, and freed the Skull Kid from its evil clutches, he felt like he had finally overcome that adversity, and the necessity of making those choices for the sake of at least saving _someone._ The cost, however, was more than he had ever conceived. For the ability to defeat his enemy, an enemy he had come to hate, he had accepted boundless power to satisfy his goal. Worse still, it was power offered by Majora itself, a mask and a being that promised all who wields it endless power. He was blinded by hate, by _duty_ , and he accepted the power readily.

As he parted ways with the people he had come to hold dear, and rode off with his horse into the woods, he had no doubt in his mind that Termina had changed him, but he did not quite understand how much. It seemed that fate had one more twist for him, as that world suddenly collapsed around him. As that world went dark, as it went silent… as he fell into a pit of darkness that grabbed him out of _nothing_ , he knew that Termina was only the start. The next thing he knew was that he woke up on a beach, on some foreign island, with his horse at his side. The trinkets he had received from his time in Termina, his sword, his shield, and his masks were all gone… just like that world he had grown to know. All he had was Epona, the clothes on his back, and his Ocarina. It was as if it never happened. It was as if Termina never _existed._ He went through so much, fought as hard as he could, all for _nothing._ Eventually, a terrible thought crossed his mind.

The power he acquired… all it did was destroy what he was trying to protect. Majora got all he wanted. Destruction, and power. All he got was _nothing_ ; nothing but regret… and despair. It was then that he remembered a conversation he had once while in Termina; a single sentence that would haunt him ever since that day.

“You've met with a terrible fate… haven't you?”

_A terrible fate indeed…_


	2. Forest Boy

**Note: Many thanks to all who followed and left feedback on my story.**

A cold, piercing sweat greeted Link as his eyes shot open and he let out a quick, but loud, yelp. He laid down on his make shift bed, breathing loudly, waiting for his body to calm down as he stared at the ceiling of his hut, resting his right forearm across his head as a way to comfort himself. It didn’t work, so instead he concentrated on the features of his humble abode instead.

He spent a summer building his little shelter off the road outside of the village after he arrived, and slowly it started resembling a home to him. It was the middle of winter, but the hearth in the middle of his hut provided ample warmth, and the thatched siding of his walls did well enough for insulation. It was, in his own words, adequate. He was close enough to a creek to get consistent clean water, and was close enough to the neighboring village, Marith. Apart from his bed and hearth, he had several makeshift chairs that were constructed out of tree trunks, and a bookshelf that was populated by whatever books he could pick up.

Apart from that, though, his hut was barren, save for two chests that housed some personal belongings, clothes, money, and food. He had considered getting a rug to liven his place up a bit, but as with several other things over the past three years, he just couldn’t find the motivation to do so. It was raining outside, as evidenced by the leak sprung in his roof that he hasn’t gotten to yet for _months_. He felt perfectly content with just collecting the water in a clay pot and using it for other things.

After a few minutes of staring at his ceiling, he finally crawled out from underneath the fur covers, and made his way over to his hearth. He had a bundle of tinder and some wood ready to light in the morning, and he made quick work getting a small fire going. The warmth from the fire immediately alleviated the slight chill he was experiencing. He sighed in relief, and then looked over at the clay pot that he used as a water catch so many times before, and slightly rejoiced at the fact that the pot was nearly full, and he was spared a wet trip through the rain to the creek. That joy, however, was short lived when he went over to his food chest and frowned that only two spruce sprigs and a tiny morsel of dried fish were the only things left. He sighed again and grabbed the twigs and fish. He could at least make tea.

After tossing the spruce twigs into his pot, he placed it by the fire and observed the water as it started to heat up and steam. He chewed on his meager meal slowly, savoring the little bit of sustenance the fish provided, before taking his now warm spruce tea away from his fire. After letting it cool some, he sipped his newly brewed tea equally as slowly as he had eaten his fish. He knew that he would have to go into town today.

_So much for not getting soaked today,_ Link thought, trying to figure out how long it’s been since he was last in town. _I could’ve sworn I was in town a few days ago. Surely, I wouldn’t have run out of supplies that quickly._

After finishing his tea, he opened his other chest and pulled some fresher clothes out and changed into them, making sure to put his other set back into the chest so he could wash them later. For some reason, they felt _looser._ He tightened his belt one notch, and then resumed his more immediate task. After making sure he had his money with him, he made his way outside to his horse, Epona. She was housed in a makeshift stable he slaved away at for at least a week, but she seemed happy with the results

“Hey, girl,” Link said quietly, “You ready for a trip into town?” Epona responded by giving him a slight nudge on his chest, making Link grin slightly. He readied his saddle, opened his gate and then mounted her, before leading her out onto the road. Epona had matured quite a bit since they landed on the beach and she was on the cusp of adulthood. For the initial part of his trip, the weather was passable, with a light drizzle, however, the drizzle turned into a downpour, and Link’s fear about getting soaked in the cold weather was realized, much to his chagrin.

“Damn it all…”

 

 

* * *

 

All he remembered was the screaming and the clanging and slicing of swords, and then the sound of a sprinting horse behind him, and the disorienting sensation of spinning in the air after something hard hit him over the back of the head, and the all went black. He woke up to a nauseating smell… one that was a bit too familiar to him as an Alakian soldier. His eyes cracked open, and his vision refocused on the fiery hellish scene in front of him.

“No…” He muttered, trying to get to his feet. He scanned the area around him. Bodies of the people he had meant to protect; robbed of their belongings, and now their very _souls_. The bandits were powerful and got the drop on them and pillaged and killed without hesitation. He cursed to himself, looking down at his tattered, sliced up clothes. No wounds were apparent over his dark skin, except for light scars, and a strange burning sensation across his neck. He reached a shaking hand up to the nape of his neck and traced the sensation across the diameter of his neck. Things started to slowly make sense when he looked down at the ground beneath him.

He clearly saw the outline his body had made when he hit the ground and saw the very conclusive trail of blood from where something rolled off of his body and came to rest a few feet away, only to be soaked by the pools of blood that came bushing out of him. He traced around his neck again, coming to the conclusion he had expected, yet feared. Death was not something he had the opportunity nor the duty to experience yet. Upon this realization, he suddenly felt a piercing _heat_ inside him, burning from his core, wanting to pry its way out of his chest. He heard faint whispering and listened closely.

“ _Hakiim”_

His name. It repeated, and then the burning exploded from his chest, violently retching and contorting his body around before coming to an abrupt, yet much-needed _idle_ rest. The fires burned hotter.

“So begins my second awakening,” Hakiim said, with a slight grin erupting on his face. He closed his eyes, and felt the familiar warmth quell in his chest, before inhaling, and then exhaling, before he opened his eyes again.

“Mission,” He stated, as if to _nothing._ The wind picked up around him, setting the bush behind him on fire, nearly engulfing everything in fire as he stood expectantly over where he had previously expired. He closed his eyes again to take in the sensation. To feel the burning.

“Understood,” He answered, before he opened his eyes again. His brown eyes glowed red for a short while, and then they reverted to their natural color. The burning sensation lessened, and so did the fires around him. Within seconds, the fires that once raged so deeply had sizzled out, leaving him standing in the middle of the wreckage. He had been given his mission. Now it was up to him to complete it.

He gazed down at the wreckage and found his scimitar lying there, slightly stained from the rain, sand, and blood. He picked it up eagerly, and sheathed it, before walking away from the wreckage, transfixed on his next mission. A mission he would complete at _all_ costs.

 

* * *

 

 

Upon Link’s arrival, he was disappointed to see the barren marketplace. The rain had chased most of the vendors and patrons away, save for the most dedicated or desperate ones. Of course, his favorite place to get supplies was closed. It made sense, water wasn’t the best thing for dried and cured meats, so the stall was indeed closed due to inclement weather. He trudged silently on the streets, reveling in the fact that there were less people than normal out there. He used to feel fine, gallivanting around in large, crowded cities. No longer. Now they were overwhelming, even medium sized villages such as this one.

He made his way down a familiar street, finding a pub he had been to several times previously, _The White Crow._ He figured it was getting close to the afternoon, so it would be _even less_ busy. He gingerly opened the door and was greeted by a blissfully warm breeze from inside the pub. After an uncomfortably long pause, he walked in, quickly gazing across the interior, trying to guess how many people were actually _there_. Thankfully, it was just as barren as the places outside were. It was too early for most people to start drinking, and the weather was too cold and too wet for anyone to want to venture outside their warm homes to begin with. All of these things worked out in Link’s favor, as far as he was concerned.

He looked up towards the bar, and made eye contact with the man standing behind it. He was a man in his mid-40’s, with salt and pepper hair and a clean, well kept goatee. He looked at Link with familiarity and kept a warm, well-meaning demeanor.

“Well hello, Link,” Nils said, observing Link approaching slowly. He did it best to suppress a frown as he looked down at Link. He wasn’t exactly happy seeing Link in the condition he appeared in currently, but he didn’t want to alarm his customer either.

“It’s been about a month since I last saw you in town,” Nils started, observing Link sit down in a bar stool, allowing his feet to dangle over the sides freely, “I wondered if you’d gotten sick. Have you been feeling okay? You look… _thinner.”_ Nils wasn’t exaggerating either. Link looked like he had lost about 5 – 10 pounds over the past few weeks, and at his current size, that was sizeable. He looked much thinner, and gaunt. _Depressed_ , even.

Link avoided eye contact. He _hated_ it when people acted concerned for his well-being. He was _perfectly_ fine being alone. It’s what he wanted. Still, Nils was a good man, and Link was wise enough to know that Nils had only his best interests in mind for him.

“I guess time just got away from me,” Link replied, hoping to end that conversation where it started. It seemed to work too, Nils stepped off a bit, now looking for his own solution to a problem that Link insisted _did not exist._

“I guess so. Regardless, I think it’s good that you came back here, we’ve got plenty of food and drink as always, and I’m happy to provide,” Nils answered, now putting on a cheerful tone to try to mask his concern, “I’d heard of problems with bandits further down south. With you not showing up for the past month, I had worried that some might’ve made their way up here, but it looks like my concern was misplaced. Has anyone been by your place?”

“No one’s visited me recently,” Link responded, actually trying to think about the last time someone visited him. He chose a fairly peaceful area, and travelers often steered clear of his residence out of respect for his privacy.

“I see,” Nils remarked, resuming wiping the cup he was cleaning earlier, and then setting it aside, “Well, why don’t you stay here tonight? It’s a quiet day, and it should be a quiet night with all this rain about. I’m assuming you came into town for supplies. If the weather clears up overnight, you should be able to grab your supplies as you leave town.”

Link glanced to the side. He appreciated Nils’s kindness, but he didn’t want to impose. He’s just a short ride back to his place, after all. Still, Nils did have a point, but that would mean he’d have to be in _town_ all night. He wasn’t sure about how he felt about that, and secondly, he couldn’t help but feel like Nils was upselling him something.

“I don’t think I’ve got the money for board _and_ supplies tomorrow, Nils,” Link answered, hoping that his rejection would stop Nils. He was wrong.

“Nonsense, it’s on the house,” Nils said, pulling out a glass and filling it with water from a pitcher, “I still haven’t forgotten the patchwork you helped me with last fall on the roof. We haven’t had a leak since, as you could obviously tell.”

Link was taken aback, this changed things a little bit, and now he felt _obligated_ to do it, much to his frustration. _It’s only one night_ , Link thought to himself.

“So don’t worry about paying. Just enjoy your meals and have yourself a nice hot bath later, and _relax_ ,” Nils concluded, hoping that his “sales pitch” worked. Really he was just concerned about Link’s well-being, and he knew that Link would fight tooth and nail against his attempts to help unless he could push him in the right direction. Link’s situation saddened him. A boy that showed up on the beach three years ago, speaking a foreign language, and seemingly carrying a larger burden on his shoulders than he should. He never had the heart to ask Link what circumstances led to him showing up on that beach and then becoming an outcast and a hermit, but he felt that there was very shaky ground underneath his stubborn self-sufficience. There was no lack of people willing to take him in, as any aspiring parent would want to for a child in need, _including_ Nils himself, but Link remained obstinate that he could take care of himself. That was up for debate. He studied Link’s expressions, hoping that he would at least take him up on the offer. It seemed like a good first step.

 

Link shifted a little bit in his chair, and then looked away from Nils before finally piping up.

“Okay, I guess I’ll take you up on your offer,” Link relented, not wanting to squander Nils’s generosity.

Nils smiled, _it worked._

“Good! Glad to have you,” Nils started, “Now let’s get you some food, you look famished.”

Link nodded in agreement, before observing Nils go back into his kitchen to go grab food. Link buried his face into his hands in slight frustration.

_Only one really long and painful day…_


	3. Fate

**Note: Thank you for the reviews and the patience as I have not updated in 2 months. I have been working overtime on my comic series, and that has obviously taken precedence over this, but I have no intentions on neglecting this story. Keep an eye out for that series in the near future, I will have information in my bio. Here you go with a new chapter.**

 

It seemed that his hesitance to accept the benevolent assistance of Nils was misguided. Link laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His room was small, and was one of the more moderately priced rooms at the inn. It was furnished with a small twin-sized bed that was accompanied with a thick, soft mattress and clean white linens and a thick fur blanket. Directly across from his bed was a small leather chair, a small and narrow bookcase that contained a few books he had read before, and a small chest of drawers. To his left, there was a nightstand with an unlit candle and a jug of clean water with its matching cup sitting neatly on top of the nightstand. Against the wall, there was a small desk and a chair that Link had neglected to inspect.

It was awfully early to go to bed, as the sun had just set, but he really couldn’t find any reason to stay downstairs around a lot of people. It wasn’t because he had any ill will towards Nils; it was actually quite the opposite. He was one of the few people he could feel comfortable around for an extended period of time. With most other people, he felt a weird compulsion to get away as soon as possible, but Nils acted like he understood Link enough for him to feel a little bit more calm than normal. Still, Nils knew just how to get under his skin. This room, for example. It was not just free, benevolent accommodation, but instead it was a _message._ Nils was telling him he had a place to stay; to _live._

_He tries too hard._

With a sigh, Link got up from his bed and decided to inspect his desk. Sometimes, the faint feeling of curiosity swept over him, and this was one such time. A time he would regret soon enough, as once he opened one of the drawers, he came face-to-face with something he had come to _fear_ immensely. He couldn’t help it, but he let out a loud yelp as he fell to the ground, crawling back towards the wall in one of the moments his perceived courage _failed_ him. Cold sweat started seeping out of his pores as he felt his heart racing, beating loudly enough to encompass most of his hearing. He curled up against the wall, praying for his heart to calm down, but relief was far off.

Nils heard Link from downstairs. He had finished his cleaning already, which wasn’t substantial as his inn was fairly barren at this time. The bad weather really did a number on his business, but it would be made up for once the weather was more desirable. Fortunately, this allowed him to temporarily abandon his post as he walked upstairs and knocked on the door.  
  
“Link?”

No answer. He then tried to open the door, but to his chagrin, it was locked.

Now even more worried, Nils pulled his key out. He wanted to make sure Link didn’t injure himself or something.

“I’m unlocking the door, Link!” Nils called as he turned the key, “I’m coming in.”

He opened the door and to his partial relief, Link was physically unharmed. However, he could tell that Link was under some serious stress as he was curled up against the wall, breathing heavily. He was sweating profusely as he wrapped his arms around his knees, with the cold sweat dripping off of his chin onto the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Nils asked, not sure what was going on. Link pointed at the desk, not making eye contact with it, however. Something _really_ bothered him.

“M-m-m-mask,” Link uttered, trying to overcome his trembling. Nils turned around and made his way to the desk. Sure enough, there was a mask of a Deku shrub inside of the drawer.

“A guest must’ve left this mask here from the nature festival last week,” Nils said, making sure to leave it in the drawer, before turning around, making sure to block any potential view of it from Link, “Does it frighten you?”  


Link tried to find words to explain how he felt, but they never came. After a few seconds to trying to say anything, he resigned to just nodding. Nils nodded back before giving Link his next instructions.

“Close your eyes, I’m taking it out. I’ll come get you when I’m done.”

Link eagerly shut his eyes as he heard the shuffling and then felt the gentle thud in the hardwood floors as Nils walked away. About a minute later, the shuffling and thudding came back as Nils had now reentered his room.

“I’ve taken it out of here, you can open your eyes now,” Nils comforted as he sat on the ground next to Link. Link opened his eyes and noticed Nils sitting on the floor next to him with obvious concern.

“Well I think I’ve solved the mystery of why the boy who lives in nature doesn’t attend the festival celebrating it.”

“Yeah…”

“You want to talk about it?”  
  
“No.”

Nils sighed again; he didn’t quite know how to approach Link when things like this happened, but he knew what he was going through. All too well.

“You’re not alone, you know that right?” Nils started, trying to at least be some sort of comfort.

“I don’t need your pity,” Link chided, already not liking where this conversation was going.

“It’s not about _pity_ , Link. I’m seeing you letting yourself waste away willingly, and judging how you just dealt with the mask, I’m willing to bet that has something to do with it. I know what you’re going through, Link, and it-”  
  
“Leave it, Nils,” Link growled. _Something_ struck a nerve, and his only recourse was anger. He didn’t know why he defaulted to it, but he couldn’t keep it under control. He stood up, immediately eyeing the exit. He had to get out of there. Back _home_ , where he felt in control. Supplies can wait another day. Although he wasn’t as fit as he used to be, he managed to maneuver his way around Nils before he could react. Nils stood up and called to Link as he made his way to the door before stopping and looking back.

“Link, let me _help_ you. I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to listen to me. You’re better than this.”

Link grimaced; the painful realization hit him in a way that he could explain, but he just didn’t have the courage to. He didn’t want to bring a good, innocent man into his world. Not with what happened to him; it would be too much.

“You’re a good man, Nils. One of the best I’ve met, but I’m beyond saving. I’m going home.”

“Link!”

It was too late. Link had left through his door and sprinted out. Nils was shocked at how fast he was, because once he managed to scramble down the stairs and out of his front door, Link was nowhere to be seen.

“What awful fate have you resigned yourself to, my boy?” Nils muttered as trudged back into his inn, defeated once again.

Within minutes, Link managed to get himself saddled up on Epona, and he began his trip back home, with nothing to show for his journey today but painful memories.

 

 

Hakiim had made good time. Marith was in his sight as he approached the town from the South. The weather was awful, but as it was already nightfall, the light emanating from the city worked well as a beacon of his progress. His scimitar stayed ready on his side, should bandit or creature attack him on his journey, but aside from the previous experience that cost him his first life, he hadn’t found many conflicts in his journey. He felt renewed. Although his first life was now over, he felt reinvigorated by his death, and the new mission he was given. True to form, his patron was cryptic and poetic, but he committed the phrase to memory. He had a vague idea of what he was looking for. He played the phrase over and over again in his thoughts. Obsessed over them.

_Piercing blue eyes the story tells_

_Of the evils he once quelled_

_A boy lost out of time_

_To dark despair he's resigned_

_For he has met with a terrible fate_

_To Marith you must make haste_

_As he was sacrificed for man and god's sake_

_A healer yourself you must make_

_To find the boy in need_

_A White Crow you must heed_

_You will take him on roads untrodden_

_To show he is not forgotten_

He made his way to the gate and was immediately stopped by two of the gate guards on patrol.

“What business do you have in Marith?” One of the guardsmen asked, noting the presence of Hakiim’s sword.

“I am a traveler from the south. I am looking for food and rest, and I carry the coin for it. I pose no ill will nor threat, I assure you.”  
  
“You have any documentation? We obviously have concerns what with the bandits in your region.”

“I fear it was because of those bandits I have had to move north,” Hakiim started, “I do not carry much, but this should suffice for documentation as it was my previous contract.” Hakiim slowly grabbed a pamphlet from his bag and handed it to the guard. The guard unrolled the parchment and scanned it, before looking back at Hakiim.

“Hakiim, is it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well, you may enter. Stay safe.”

“You too, sir. I do have a question for you before I make my way in, though, if you do not mind.”

The guards looked at each other, before the main one responded, “What do you need?”

Hakiim placed his paper back in his bag as he continued, “Have either of you heard anything about a ‘White Crow?’”

The guards looked at each other again, but this time a quiet snicker erupted between them before the main guard responded, “You’re definitely new around here. White Crow is an inn, just down the road on the left. It would be good accommodation for you tonight.”

Hakiim felt relieved; this was easier than he thought. He was lucky so far.

“Thank you, I shall make my way there. Have a good evening.”

The guards acknowledged him as he walked past, on his way to the White Crow. Soon enough, he found his way to a very homely looking pub. He opened the doors and found a lone employee, standing at the bar, apparently deep in thought as he buried his face in his palms. However, as his presence became known, the proprietor shot up to duty.

“Welcome to the White Crow! Name’s Nils and I’m the proprietor, what can I get you? An ale or mead?”

“An ale, please,” Hakiim responded as he made his way to the bar, carefully observing the main room. He was _hoping_ his target would be there, but apparently, he was wrong. He sat at the bar and waited for his drink. Nils came back with a full mug of ale, and sat it in front of him.

“It’s probably nothing like you’ve got back home, but it’s good in weather like today,” Nils stated.

“Yes, I have grown a taste for the ales in these parts. The bergamot and clove turns out to be a good accent. Makes the ales taste more like wheat beers, it is very unique.”

“Well good, I’m glad us Lautians have _something_ to take pride in,” Nils responded before getting back to acting like he was working, “So what brings you to Marith?”

“I am actually looking for someone, though I do not know his name. Do not worry, I am not here to do any harm. Quite the opposite.”

Nils piped up, although he was slightly pensive. He wasn’t too sure yet, but he seemed nice enough.

“Oh? What do you need that person for?”

“He has been met with a terrible fate and I have been instructed to find him and help him.”

Nils stood back, he _knows_ something about this. However, he also knew more. He studied Hakiim before making his next statement.

“Judging from the scar on your neck… You’ve had your second awakening, haven’t you?” Nils stated, before sitting back against his bar and lighting a pipe.

Hakiim looked down, _shocked_ that someone would know about it, but he kept his composure. He traveled the world, it makes sense that this man might meet others who are well traveled, if not himself.

“You are observant.”

Nils took a drag from his pipe and blew his smoke in the air, before reaching down behind his bar, and pulling out a curved dagger in an ornate sheath.  He made sure to grab it slowly, as to make sure he wasn’t being threatening. Hakiim observed him as he grabbed it and recognized the origin of the dagger. Nils studied Hakiim’s face and received the validation he was looking for.

“Years before I opened this place, I, along with many brave Lautians. joined your fellow Alakians as allies on the battlefield. I have some familiarity with how you people and your deity operate.”

“It appears that it was wise to ask you, then,” Hakiim responded, narrowing his eyes a little bit. They were speaking on equal terms, but it was clear that Nils had some reservations, “The person I seek is a boy with piercing blue eyes.”

“Yeah, I know of him,” Nils started, “Shame you weren’t here a couple of hours ago, you’d have run right into him.”

Hakiim’s eyes widened as he had to contain his excitement. He was getting close to the next step of his assignment.

“Do you know where he went? Do you know his name?”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second here,” Nils started, “Look, he’s a good kid. _Promise_ me you’ll listen to what I have to say, it’s important.”

Hakiim sat back down, willing to do _anything_ for this information.

“Of course, please continue. My life depends on it.”

Nils took a very long drag from his pipe. It felt a bit wrong to him to open up about who Link was, but he knew Alakians. He fought alongside them, and he knew the cost of a second life, and what they’re willing to do to succeed in their mission.

“His name is Link. He lives a few miles outside of the village in a hut on the edge of the forest. He’s… not well.”

“What is wrong with him? Is he ill?”

Nils put the dagger away and poured himself a drink.

“In a way, yes. He’s frail and thin… too thin. He’s also too stubborn for his own good, but I think I know of a few reasons why.”

“What reasons?”

Nils took a drink from his mug, and then puffed on his pipe again.

“He’s got what your people call _Warsickness_. I knew it as soon as I laid my eyes on him, and it’s getting worse. It worries me constantly, and what I saw today was the worst I’ve seen. Something’s gotta be done.”

“I see… that is most unfortunate. Do you know what triggers it?”

“From what I’ve seen, he is deathly afraid of masks. Not sure why, but he ran off earlier when he found one in his room here. He refuses _all_ help. I used to think it was pride, but nowadays I just think he doesn’t want to drag anyone else into his despair. You will have a tough battle in front of you.”

“I understand. Very well then, I will go see him.”

Hakiim stood up and pulled a few coins out of his pocket and placed them on the table, before turning around to leave.

“Wait.”

Hakiim turned around, and saw Nils coming out from behind the bar, tying the dagger around his waist.

“I’m coming with you.”

 

 

It was a total loss for Link. He scrambled home in a hurry after picking Epona back up, but the sight of the Deku shrub mask and the memories of what was done to him was too much. He didn’t last long before nausea took over and he threw up behind his hut.

He leaned up against a large oak tree outside of his hut and let the cold rain sprinkle over him. He meditated over what had happened today, and soon enough, a new emotion burned through his consciousness. Anger.

He went back inside his hut, and went directly to his chest to put his money back in. As he opened it, he noticed the Ocarina sticking out of his bag slightly. He picked it up and examined it, maybe for the first time in over a year. He reminisced about his first journey through time, and how important he used to think it was. If only he knew where he’d end up.

“Hero of time… Look where that got me,” Link said before slamming his chest shut, “Just a sad driveling kid in the middle of the goddamn woods. Right where I started.”

He sat back on his bed and kicked his boots off. He was right, it was a really long and painful day. At least now he can sleep it off.

At least, he _would_ , if it wasn’t for the sound of talking, shuffling, and horses outside. He heard faint voices, but he couldn’t make out what was being said.

_Nils must’ve come out here or something,_ he thought, before looking outside and coming face to face with not Nils, but a group of men.

“Ey, look at that Fleck! Looks like it’s just a boy that lives ‘ere!” The man said smiling a toothy smile of broken and rotten teeth. Link was immediately put on guard.

“He’s got a noice mare here too, Rummy! _Very_ healthy indeed!” a response from Link’s right came. A man as over there, observing Epona trying to free herself.

“A man who can afford a nice expensive horse like that’s gotta have something nice in his home!” Rummy said, “Let’s see!” Before Link could react, he felt himself being grabbed and thrown back into his hut, landing on his hearth, scattering ashes everywhere. He landed on his side, and his hip throbbed like there was no tomorrow. This wasn’t good, he didn’t have a sword or anything to defend himself with. He heard Epona neigh loudly in the background, now accompanied by more voices.

“Epona!” Link shouted ,trying to stand back up before receiving a kick to the ribs from Rummy.

“Shaddap kid, I don’t like people talkin’ while I’m looking through their stuff!”

Rummy opened Link’s chest and rummaged through his things.

“Well I was wrong mostly, but what’s this? Some coin! Not a lot but it’s a nice little piggy bank for you, eh kid!”

Link tried crawling over to his bed to try to stand up. The pain coming from his ribs was intense, it radiated up through his upper torso and even up to his _neck_. He coughed loudly, and unwillingly.

“Oooh! What a pretty ocarina! You play music, boy? Let’s ‘ear somethin’!”

Rummy grabbed Link and pinned him against his bed, and shoved the Ocarina’s mouthpiece into his mouth.

“C’mon! Play something!”

Link felt like he was being crushed by Rummy’s weight, and was starting to get desperate. While he tried resisting, his hopes were finally granted when he felt the shape of a dagger against Rummy’s leg. If only he could just… _reach_ … it…

Rummy pushed harder against Link, putting more force onto Link’s face to try to force him to blow through the ocarina, but that was actually a blessing in disguise for Link, as the dagger was now close enough for Link to grab hold of.

“COME ON, KI-AGH!” Rummy screamed in pain as Link jammed the dagger into Rummy’s leg. He spat out his Ocarina as he fought to keep control of the dagger.

“YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Rummy yelled as he picked Link up entirely, and body slammed him against his bed, breaking it, sending Link falling into the wreckage. Rummy now loomed over Link, in a mad rage, and pulled the dagger out of his leg.

“I’m gonna kill you for that!” Rummy shouted, and advanced towards Link, who was now barely conscious from the impact. He was bleeding in several places, including the mouth, and it felt like he had broken at least a rib from that impact, and bruised most of his body, especially his head, where he was sure he now had a concussion.

“RUMMY!” A voice called from outside. Rummy stopped in his tracks. A tall man, well dressed, with a black fur coat and a rapier on his hip walked into the hut.

“We’ve got the horse, we’ve still got plenty of distance to cover tonight, and oh… _interesting…”_ The man said before reaching down and picking up the Ocarina of Time, “Royal seal of Hyrule huh? This should fetch a nice price. Thank you for your generosity, boy.”

He put the ocarina in his pocket and then turned to Rummy, “come, we must make our way north. We’re wasting time here, now.”

“Not before I finish killing this little shit!” Rummy said, “He stabbed me in my leg!”

The man turned to him and observed his leg, before asking his next question, “Your leg? This will slow us down, won’t it?”

“Well wai-“ Rummy said before being cut off by a dagger slitting his throat with frightening speed. He fell to the ground, gargling out blood before finally going limp in front of Link, who looked on in horror.

“There’s a little revenge for you, boy,” The man said before leaving his hut, “let that be consolation before you pass on. Torch it!”

“Dammit…” Link swore as he tried to crawl out of the wreckage of his former bed, towards the exit of his hut, but he was in too much pain. He then started to feel the heat, and the crushing impact of the smoke over him as he tried to make his way. He heard the men ride away, and he just made it over Rummy’s body. Soon enough, his entire hut was becoming enveloped in the fire, and the smoke became too much for him as he felt himself losing consciousness as he heard two yelling voices outside.

_Is this the end?_


End file.
